Page 67 of Out Of Time

She felt her heart breaking for him, and she wanted to save him, even if it meant lying and telling him he wasn't going to lose hockey. She wanted to lie, just to make him feel better in thismoment. But she didn’t, because Remi was a lot of things; she was brash, loud at times, and a little bit of a perfectionist, but she wasn't a liar. So, she stayed silent as the man she loved so much grieved the loss of his first love, his passion, his entire identity, and she silently accepted that some things he had to mourn on his own. Sadly, this was one of them.

“I don’t know who I am without it, Rem,” he said, and she could hear the defeat he was feeling through the phone.

She took a shaky breath and then offered the only thing she thought might help him understand this, process it, and maybe even find a place to lay blame for it all.

“Max, I think you need to meet your dad.”

He was silent on the other line for just a beat.

“I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he finally admitted.

“Should we arrange it? I can go with you,” she offered.

“You would do that?” he asked.

“Yes, I would go with you. I said yes toeverything,Max Miller.”

They pulled up to Max’s father’s house in Remi’s car. She offered to drive more often than not lately, and for that, he was grateful. Driving had become scary, even during the day over the last few weeks, his vision majorly declining seemingly overnight. Taking the time on the drive over to get his head in the right place, he focused on preparing himself for this unconventional family reunion. Nothing seemed to work, so he sat back in his seat and let the sounds of Remi singing along to her punk mix drown out the intense panic he felt in his chest.

He loved how easy she was. She was so free; she didn’t hold back or edit her actions around him, or anyone else for that matter. One day he wanted to know the words to these songs too, and to sing along with the windows down, his hand flying outside the window of his Jeep as they drove along PCH together. He wanted to say the first words that came to his mind, even if they were harsh or offensive or passionate. Looking over at Remi, she smiled up at him, and his heart raced with affection for this woman, drowning out the nerves he had about meeting his father.

When they pulled into the driveway, they found that his father’s house was a faded shade of brown. Not because it wasn't taken care of; it was just an old house that had been lived in. The harsh California summers had taken a toll on its exterior. Remi took Max’s hand in hers, pulling him up the small pathway that led to the front porch, his feet hesitant and his body stiff with fear. When she rang the doorbell, several dogs began to bark, followed by the sound of a woman telling them to settle down. The woman, who Max assumed to be his father’s wife, opened the door with a warm smile on her face and a small white chihuahua in her arms.

“You must be Max and Remi. I’m Nancy, Jim’s wife,” she said, opening the screen door to let them in.

Max was hit with an intense wave of panic. His face flushed hot and he felt his eyes glaze over. It was a lot. People were hard, but with the new people being his estranged father and his wife, it was even harder. Remi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he couldn’t be more grateful that she was here with him. It was like she had come into his life at the exact moment he needed her and filled every void, helping him overcome his fears, calming the raging storm that was in his chest.

“Thank you for having us,” Remi said, then added, “We could have met you somewhere, taken you out for lunch.”

“No, it’s fine. We don’t go out as much these days since Jim started collecting stray dogs,” she said with a laugh, the small dog in her arms shaking nervously as she led them through the house. “Your father has never met a dog he didn't want to rescue.”

Anger towards the man swelled in Max’s chest at those words.

Never met a dog he didn’t want to rescue,but he was more than willing to abandon his son like a mangy stray.

“Just right through here,” she said, leading them into the small kitchen where Max saw his father for the first time in his life.

The red hair was a dead giveaway. It was very obvious that the two of them were related, and Max hated that looks weren’t the only thing the man had bestowed upon him. He hated that his father couldn't just pass down the thick red hair, freckled arms, and stocky build, he had to give Max this curse too, this life-altering disease.

The walking cane by his father’s side was the other indication that this was indeed his dad. Max wondered if he would need a cane one day too and his heart raced at the sight of it. Of him, his cane, and the dogs, there were so many fucking dogs. It was too much. He gripped Remi’s hand tightly, and she responded by whispering, “You got this.”

The man stood at the sound of their entry, and Max knew this part all too well; the way your other senses seem to step up when your vision starts to fail.

“Max, this is your father, Jim. Jim, this is Max. He’s the spitting image of you. He brought his girlfriend Remi as well,” she said, introducing Max nonchalantly like he was a missionary off the street popping in to tell him about the second coming.

Max’s father offered up a hand to shake and Remi encouraged him forward to take it. He hesitantly shook it, despite wanting to tell the man that he would like to pass on the formalities. It was surreal, meeting him and seeing him after only ever having wondered what he would be like.

Remi spoke up, breaking the silence between them all. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Jim. Thank you for having us over on such short notice.”

Max’s father looked over to where Remi’s voice had come from, following the sound of her.

“Well, you don’t sound like I remember from the phone call. Your voice was a bit deeper last time we spoke,” Jim joked, hinting at Max not saying anything, and Remi gave the man’s joke a small laugh.

“Yeah, thank you for having us over,” Max finally said.

“It was long overdue, kid. Have a seat. Nancy will get us all a beer and you can start your interrogation. How does that sound?” his father asked, and without agreeing verbally, he and Remi took a seat at the small dining room table.

“So, how’s your mom these days?” Jim asked, and it felt like a strange introduction to the conversation, but Max was grateful he didn’t have to get the ball rolling.

---